


Low Blow

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Shenanigans [171]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fights, Interior Decorating, Lucifer's Cage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Lucifer are having a lover's quarrel about interior design when Sam reminds Lucifer of something he'd much rather live without thinking of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low Blow

**Author's Note:**

> I know this one's angsty but I promise the next one will be extra fluffy to make up for it.

Sam knows it’s a low blow, but he’s tired of this stupid, _petty_ fight – neither of them are willing to give an inch, even if neither of them are exactly sure what it is they’re fighting about anymore – and he can’t take another minute of Lucifer’s rant about his “vastly superior knowledge of interior design” and how Sam “should have more of an appreciation for the finer points of moulding.”

 

“What could you _possibly_ know about style that I don’t, Luce? If I remember correctly, _one_ of us has been living in a cage his entire life, and it wasn’t me!” He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, because he _knows_ how badly it hurts for his mate to think about how many years – “A hundred thousand years, Sam, and I was so _alone-_ ” and he can tell how badly he’s fucked up by the gradual way Lucifer’s features slip into something more fragile as the archangel turns away.

 

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I’d mistakenly believed that my... Period of isolation... Would have given me an eye for the finer things in life. I suppose I’m just a devilish brute who has been ruined for beauty.”

 

Sam reaches out, aching to rid Lucifer of the unbearable sadness that seems to have taken over his form. “Lu-”

 

“Please avert your eyes, Sam. I would hate for you to accidentally catch a glimpse of the charred monstrosity that is my true form after burning in Hell for a hundred thousand years.”

 

A soft, desperate sound claws its way out of Sam’s throat as he lowers his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m going to see my brother now, if you don’t mind,” Lucifer replies, voice shaking just a little at the thought of seeing Michael.

 

“Don’t tell him,” Sam begs. He’s not looking forward to the scolding he’s going to get from the oldest archangel after he finds out about his error.

 

Lucifer huffs. “Are there any other comforts you’d like to deny me? Perhaps I should sit at your feet at dinner. Or perhaps you’d like me to go back to sleeping on the couch every night again. Alone. In the dark. Cold. In a different Hell.”

 

“Luce, I didn’t mean-”

 

“No, it’s _fine,_ ” Lucifer hisses. “I won’t tell Mika, or ask him to comfort me, or even go to him. Clearly I am unworthy of such privileges after spending my whole life in a cage.”

 

“Luce,” Sam whispers. “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking, and I hurt you. _Please_ let me make it up to you.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Lucifer crossing his arms. “You can start by taking it back.”

 

Sam nods, taking care to keep his eyes averted. “I do. I take back what I said. You know plenty about style, more than I ever will, okay? I mean, I don’t exactly have the best frame of reference, either, and it was really wrong of me to say what I did. I crossed a line, and I know it.”

 

“And you want to make it up to me?” Lucifer asks, contemplatively.

 

Another nod. “Yes. I’ll do anything.”

 

“Anything?” Lucifer laughs.

 

Sam considers it for a moment. It might be foolish to agree to do ‘anything’ an archangel asked, but he trusted Lucifer. “Anything.”

 

“Complementary wing massages for a month?”

 

“Done,” Sam agrees.

 

“Hmmm... And cuddles on demand?”

 

Sam almost smiles at the realization that his mate didn’t put a time frame on his second request. “Yeah, Luce. Anytime you want.”

 

“Breakfast in bed for the next week?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“For me _and_ Gabe?”

 

Sam does smile at that. “Naturally.”

 

“Last thing. I’m still gonna need to go cry on Mika for a few hours, and I want you and Gabe to have reached somewhat of a decision when I get back. Have three moulding styles you both like, and I’ll choose between them.”

 

Sam lifts his head. “No can do, Luce. You’re gonna pick whichever one you like best when you get back; if we don’t like it, we’ll learn to deal.”

 

“Even if I pick an art deco leaf crown moulding?” Lucifer asks, suspicion coloring every syllable.

 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what half of those words mean, but I do know that you have impeccable taste. I trust you.”

 

Lucifer smiles, but Sam can see tears pooling in his eyes as he lifts his wings. “I’ll forgive you when I return,” he promises.

 

Sam reels slightly in his absence. “Better get started on those breakfast menus,” he decides, smiling at the thought of seeing his mate happy again.


End file.
